Ah 50...has it really been that fabulous?

The face of almost 51!

So the big “5-1” is cresting the horizon about now. It gives me cause to look back and reflect and determine if being 50 has been as “fab” as the moniker of this blog would have one believe. It is a very often asked question…kind of. More on that later…but the big question is this; is being 50 really all that fab? Well, I have an answer for you darlings…

You bet your sweet ass it is!

As many who know me are aware, aging hasn’t ever really been that big a deal for me.

“Age is just a number.”

“With age comes wisdom.”

“Aging ain’t no big thing!”

I’ve heard them all…believe me. And platitudes aside, I am reminded every day that I am blessed for the genetics I was gifted at birth. Aside from the few creaks from my joints that greet me occasionally in the morning, I have been very, very fortunate. Aging has truly been a gift…and not just from the physical perspective.

Being 50 has been like gaining admission to a very exclusive club, where one of the major perks of membership is this sense of being a little bit of a badass. Not in the “hey let’s go burn down a convenience store” sense, but more in a state of mind. Even though my last year has been a bit chaotic professionally and financially, as far as a sense of self I have never felt more grounded and certain. I don’t know if it truly plays into the whole “aging and wisdom” thing, but it has been true…at least for me.

Let’s face it, those of you who know the true story of my life for the last 8 years know that it has had more challenges than not. But at this juncture of my journey I feel like I won the Ironman Triathlon…complete with the hard work. Not the running and biking and swimming required to achieve such a goal, but the kind that makes a splintered person feel whole again. Turning 50 was like the prize at the end of the finish line, and much like a beauty queen resting on her laurels well passed her prime, I wear that prize with pride. I am a lucky, lucky man. I say lucky in the sense of not only having had the courage to recognize inside myself that something was broken, but to take the necessary steps to fix it. Not just put a “bandage” on my injured heart and soul, but to work to heal the damage, and rehab it back to resiliency.

At this writing, I am about 95% rehabbed…heart wise. I think that is the best I can hope for compared to where I used to be. Honestly, I am not sure I was ever truly 100% in the first place. As for that remaining 5% resiliency, perhaps that is being held on reserve, Reserved for what I don’t have the slightest idea. But I do know it feels good to know that the capacity to love wasn’t completely lost…

But back to the subject at hand…being 50!

One of my favorite things about turning 50 has been the “no” factor. Not familiar with this particular theorem? Allow me a moment to do some “theater of the text.”

Random Individual #1: Hey Jeffery! Wanna go to a party with me this weekend.

Me: Ummm…no thanks.

Random Individual #2: Hey Jeffery! Some friends are getting together to go fabric shopping for a pillow sewing party. Wanna join us?

Me: Thanks, but no.

Random Individual #3: Hey Jeffery! A bunch of us are going to go basil picking this weekend. Come with us!

Me: I would, but I just don’t want to. Thanks.

Get the picture? The word “no” has been a very VERY likeable perk of the half century club. I say it on a regular basis, without regret. I wish I had learned the value of that two-lettered word. Its power can be used for good, not just of the proverbial evil.

You get the idea...

Granted, I don’t say it all the time…but it has found its way into my regular vocabulary. Frankly I am glad…there is a sincerely beautiful power in the word. A no doesn’t have to mean a closing to the book on a particular issue. It can be a stall tactic; putting off until tomorrow something you may not want to do today. However, that doesn’t mean that it can’t be used to shut down talks completely. Those particular no’s must be used in moderation. I have often joked that as I have gotten older I have become more and more like Clint Eastwood’s character in the film “Grand Torino.” I don’t need to quote the line, I’m sure you know it already. But it’s never been my reason for no-ing….quite the contrary.

With the aging and the quantifying of the word “no,” comes another added perk; no qualifier. Explanations are neither admired nor required when you say no over 50. Yes, it is one of those parenting moments that you kind of catch yourself in…saying something like “because I said so.”

Who said that?!?

When you realize it was you who uttered that phrase from childhood that your parent could throw out at almost any moment to disarm an escalating situation, it can be a surprise. The first time I was cognitive of having said it, I had to smile. It’s one of those “who said that” moments. It also showed me that in spite of the negativity the word conveys there is a subtle and gentle power the word can also convey.

I realize in this post I am giving the impression that “no” is the most valuable thing I have learned in the past 11+ months. There will be more to share in the coming weeks.  It the meantime, I leave you with one more adage about saying no…

Saying “no” to something is actually much more powerful than saying yes.

Until next time…